I crouch beside him again. “Look, this is your only shot at redeeming yourself. After all the shit you’ve done to me, it’s taking all my self-control to refrain from beating you to death. It wouldn’t be quick, or pleasant. You would hurt, and you would suffer, and you would spend your last moments on this mortal coil wondering how it was possible to experience so much pain. You see, I’m the personification of every childhood nightmare you ever had, Pierce. You can’t fathom what I’m capable of putting you through. But you have one chance, and one chance only, right now, to avoid all that unpleasantness. You just have to tell us what you know about The Order—how they operate, what they’re planning… everything.”
He holds my gaze for a few moments, and I can tell he’s searching for any hint that I’m lying. I stare right back, unblinking, knowing he won’t find anything.
Finally, he looks over at Josh. “He… talks a lot, doesn’t he?”
Josh smiles and nods. “Yes, he does. And the frightening thing is, he means every word.”
Pierce sighs, and leans back again, gazing back up at the sky. I notice his grip on his knee loosens. “How did you find out about Mr. Sterling?”
I frown. “It’s Mr. Sterling now, is it?”
Josh crouches opposite me. “We know The Sterling Group is trying to buy Fuelex, which is why Horizon wanted Sayed bin Mawal taken out. What we don’t know is why.”
“The Committee…” he manages.
My eyes narrow. “What about it?”
Pierce sighs. “Sterling’s on it.”
Josh and I exchange a glance, filled with surprise, excitement, and apprehension. Not only are we on the right track, but we just hit the goddamn jackpot.
9
20:42 PDT
His words hang ominously in the air. I remember Horizon saying these Committee members are the sonsofbitches who run the show. If Sterling’s one of them, this is a big opportunity for us.
“What does his conglomerate want with Fuelex?” asks Josh.
Pierce shakes his head. “I… I don’t know.”
I press my gun against his temple. “Now isn’t the time for being vague, asshole.”
He casually bats it away with his hand. “I’m not. You know someone like… like me wouldn’t know… something like that. I don’t even know who else… is on… the Committee.”
“How do you know Sterling is?”
“I heard Horizon mention him… when we were looking at… bin Mawal as a target.”
Josh shrugs. “Okay. We’ll get more information out of Sterling, anyway. At least we know we’re on the right track.” He looks over at me. “Adrian, we should think about getting out of here.”
I ignore him, instead pressing the barrel of my gun into Pierce’s knee. “Where’s Horizon?”
He screams, his face contorted with pain. “I don’t know!”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m… I’m not. He left Dubai two days ago, after he… sent you after… your friend. He didn’t… say… where.”
I believe him. It was a long shot, anyway. Besides, Horizon is just one battle—the war is with The Order, and Sterling might be the break we need to get ahead of the enemy for once.
I stand and hold my gun out to Josh. He straightens up, too, and takes it, looking confused.
“Go wait in the car,” I say to him.
He frowns. “Why?”
“Because you’re a public figure and an all-round respectable citizen. You don’t need to see what’s about to happen.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Adrian? Don’t do anything stupid. Just—”
I shake my head. “Walk away, Josh.”
We hold each other’s gaze for a moment, and then he sighs, nods once, and turns on his heels before walking back over to the car. He knows me better than anyone, which means he can tell when I’m already fixed on doing something that’s either stupid or violent.
This is going to be the latter.
I look down at Pierce. “I’ve had a lot of things to think about these last couple of days. One of those things is what I would do to you, if I ever saw you again. I know you’re dangerous and very good at what you do. You see, where your arrogance blinds you, I give credit where it’s due. I know from experience you’re a mean sonofabitch. The Order has some of the world’s best assassins working for it and you were the one Horizon sent to help them. That says a lot. But I’m not among the best… I’m the best. I’m going to stop The Order from doing whatever they’re trying to do, and I’m going to lay waste to every single one of them. I want you to know that.”
He smiles weakly, barely able to lift his head. “No one man can stop… The Order, and you’re delusional if you… if you think otherwise. There’s only one way this will end.”
I take a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. But I’m not one man. I have Josh. And between us, we’re unstoppable. But as for how this will end, you’re right. There is only one way. See, at first, I figured if I ever got a hold of you, I would just shoot you, right between the eyes. But when you chased us in here, and I realized it was going to come down to you or me, I decided a bullet was too good for you. Too merciful. Like I said before, it’s taken a lot of self-control to stop myself beating you to death before I’d gotten any information from you.”
He shifts uncomfortably on the ground, as if he’s trying to scramble away from me, but can’t. “You… you said if I helped you… you would—”
“Spare you the unpleasantness of suffering… yes, I know. I was there. The thing is…” I kneel beside him, and without warning I slam my cast down across his face, as hard as I can, like a hammer. “…I lied.”
He grunts from the impact, bringing an arm up in a desperate attempt to protect himself.
There’s no protection from this.
From me.
I lean forward and grab his throat. I have a very strong grip. The only way you get out of it is if I let you. I pin him to the ground and bring my cast down once more across his face. I feel his nose give way beneath the impact, and a thick, dark-red spray covers his shirt, and the gravel beside him.
He gasps for air, unable to breathe through his nose now, but the hand I have around his throat is making it difficult for him.
I hit him again, with as much brute strength as I can. His left eye swells almost instantly, forcing itself shut. A large welt rises on his cheek, and what remains of his nose spurts more blood over him. He clutches my wrist, desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure on his throat, but he can’t. He seems insistent on leaving one hand over his leg wound, choosing to limit his own chances of survival.
I hit him a fourth time, and his cheek splits. Blood pulses from the wound, running freely down his face and chin. I lean close to him. “I don’t care if you were a willing soldier or nothing more than Horizon’s puppet. I don’t care how helpful you’ve been. Bottom line is, you killed Lily, you killed Yaz, and you tried to kill me. This right here, this is just the beginning. What I’m going to do to you is nothing compared to what Horizon, and anyone else involved in The Order, has coming to them. You should be thankful you won’t be around to see it.”
I hit him again. And again. And again. The muscles in my face ache from gritting my teeth, snarling as the full extent of my wrath is slowly unleashed, little by little with each furious blow. My arm and shoulder begin to throb from the exertion, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not now. I just need to keep swinging. To keep hitting him. To punish him and make him suffer.
I bring the cast down for the eighth time and feel his jaw unhinge. I pause, breathing heavily. He’s a mess. His eye is swollen completely shut. His cheek isn’t just split open, the bone has been exposed and crushed, leaving a large dent in his face. His mandible is badly dislocated, hanging loose on one side. In addition to all that, I can’t see any skin—he’s fully hidden beneath a mask of deep crimson. I think he’s unconscious. He’s not dead, because his chest is still rising and falling, but it’s hard to tell if he�
�s conscious or not.
He groans, and moves his lips silently, revealing the gaps where he’s now missing some teeth. I can’t tell what he’s trying to say, but, honestly, I don’t care.
I hit him again and feel more bone cave beneath the impact. My breathing is heavy and loud. Each exhalation is laced with fury. I move to hammer the cast down one more time, but almost overbalance as the weight of me pushing on his throat finally proves too much. I feel his windpipe collapse under my hand, which is now almost flat against the ground. It killed him instantly.
I sit back on my haunches, taking deep breaths to slow my heart rate as sweat runs freely down the side of my face. I stare at Pierce, his head little more than a puddle of shattered humanity, his throat black and contorted. I hold my cast up in front of me, and watch as thick blood oozes over it, dripping slowly to the ground.
“Holy shit!”
I look up, feeling the blank, numb expression on my face, and see Josh standing there. His mouth is hanging open with shock, and his eyes are wide, transfixed on the horrific sight before him.
I quickly shake my head, snapping myself back to the here and now. I check Pierce’s pockets and retrieve his billfold and cell phone before getting to my feet.
“Get the assault rifles his boys brought with them,” I say to Josh. “They might come in handy.”
I walk away, toward the car, leaving him standing there in silence.
That felt good. It felt satisfying, as if the memories of Lily and Yaz had finally seen justice. And I’m just getting started.
10
June 7, 2017
07:18 PDT
We made it to Sacramento shortly before one a.m. and found a motel with vacancies just off the interstate. It’s nothing fancy. A twin room with a shower and basic cable. The walls and carpet are straight out of the seventies, and judging by the faint, stale odor that’s lingering in here, I wouldn’t be surprised if this room had featured in more than its fair share of crime scene photos. Still, we needed somewhere to lay low and get some sleep, and this place was as good as any.
I’m staring out the window, watching as the sun rises slowly in the pale, morning sky. Behind me, Josh is still asleep, sprawled half-dressed on top of his bed. We haven’t spoken much since last night. All that with Pierce was… intense, to say the least. Now, me? I’m used to all that—as much as anyone can be used to a heavily-armed gunship chasing them, and beating a man to death, anyway. But Josh… he’s been away from this life for a long time. Aside from all the GlobaTech stuff, he’s not only got my shit adding to his stresses, but also the fact there’s a price on his head. I left all my troubles back in Lebec, staining the ground with their blood, but I can’t imagine what’s going through his mind right now.
I take a deep breath. We have a long day ahead. It’s another twelve hours to Seattle, and I’ve no idea what will happen when we get there. Sterling has gone from being a person of interest, to basically running the whole damn show. And you can bet your ass he knows we’re coming.
“Do you mind brooding a little quieter?”
I turn around, and see Josh sitting on the edge of the bed, scratching the back of his head. I smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. Sadly, lying down with your eyes closed isn’t the same as being asleep.” He stands, puts his shirt on, and begins fastening the buttons. “You okay?”
I shrug. “I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh…”
I roll my eyes. “What?”
He shakes his head as he disappears into the bathroom. I lie on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, and stretch my legs out in front of me. I massage my temples, trying to ease the dull ache pulsating behind my eyes. I need some aspirin, or something. Everything seems to be sore. I look down at my cast, desperate to ball my hand into a fist. I hate feeling handicapped like this, and the timing sucks.
Josh reappears, sits down on his bed facing me, and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He looks at me and cocks his head slightly. “Alright, here’s the deal. If you want me to carry on watching your back, being your voice of reason, and all the other crap I do for you, we need to get something straight. Now isn’t the time for deflecting questions. You’ve worked so hard at talking about shit that needs talking about, so don’t stop now. When I asked if you’re okay, it wasn’t an invitation to dismiss me, it was an invitation to tell me how you’re feeling after beating a man to death with your bare hands. Especially one who did the things that prick did.”
Hearing him say that brings back so many memories of how things used to be. I breathe through the wave of nostalgia, suppressing it. He’s serious and has a valid point.
I nod. “That’s fair. And you’re right, I am getting better at talking about things that weigh on my mind. It’s just not as easy with you, because I’ve never needed to do it. It used to be that we both knew what the other was thinking, so a lot of things could go unspoken.”
“Yeah, that’s true. But that was also a long time ago. Right now…” He sighs. “…you gotta talk to me, mate.”
“I know, and I’m trying, Josh. I was open with you on the mountain…”
He gestures to me with his hands. “So, tell me how you’re doing. Last night couldn’t have been easy for you. You can’t honestly expect me to believe you feel fine after that?”
I think about it for a moment. “D’you know what? I kinda do. It felt good, man. I rarely feel any kind of pleasure from a kill. Satisfaction, yeah, but that’s not the same thing. That’s more like professional pride. But, beating Pierce to death… I enjoyed it. It gave me something I should never get from what I do. Something I’ve never once received in the past, from any of the hundreds of people I’ve killed.”
Josh frowns. “What’s that?”
“Hope. Hope that whatever shit is going on right now, it’ll get better. I looked at Pierce as if he represented everything that was messed up about my life. And not just from the last few weeks, which he was involved in—I’m talking about everything. I took something positive from arguably the most negative thing a person could do, and, yeah, that worries me. I hardly slept last night, despite being so tired, because my mind was racing, thinking about what I did, and what lies ahead.” He nods, staring blankly at the floor. I smile faintly. “Is that weird?”
He looks up at me and shakes his head. “What’s weird, is that isn’t weird. Maybe I’ve known you too long, I dunno. But you… I don’t think the rules that govern regular people really apply to you. You exist beyond convention, in a world inhabited by few others, and understood by almost no one. I don’t think you can be held to the same standards as everyone else. In your position, after everything you told me you’ve been through—everything you’ve seen and done… it makes sense that you feel driven by a desire for vengeance. You were like that once before, when you went after Wilson Trent. Do you remember?”
I nod. “How could I forget?”
“You embarked on a crusade that took years out of your life. And do you remember how you felt when you finally killed him?”
I nod again. “Empty.”
“Yeah, you felt empty. Hollow and unsatisfied, I think were the words you used. Yet, this time, you felt a sense of justice and closure. What’s different, do you think?”
I frown, running both past and present scenarios through my mind repeatedly. What is different? What’s changed since Pittsburgh? It’s probably easier to think what hasn’t changed. Look at the world nowadays. Look at how messed up and chaotic everything is. It’s a fact that I was involved in the chain of events that led to the world being the way it is today, but I’m working hard to stop blaming myself for it, and I’m getting there.
Maybe that’s it?
I look at Josh. “I don’t feel guilty anymore.”
He snaps his fingers and points at me. “Exactly. Even though Trent killed your family, you always felt that your life, your decisions, were the true cause of their deaths, as if you pulled
the trigger yourself. It took you a long time to move past that. But with Pierce, you don’t blame yourself for the things he did, so seeking revenge no longer feels selfish. Because you’re not feeling guilty, you can see it for what it is—justice being served… in your own, unique way.”
I shake my head and smile. “I thought I was the new Dr. Phil?”
He laughs. “I just know people. And I know you. But remember, Adrian, what we’re doing, it’s not going to get any easier. From what you’ve told me, I think I know this Horizon asshole well enough to know that he’s going to try messing with your head. You need to keep focused on that freedom you have… that sense of justice, because it won’t always be this straightforward to deal with. I need you at your best.”
“Yeah, fair point. Anyway, speaking of things not getting any easier, what do you think about Grant Sterling being on The Order’s Committee?”
He lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s a stroke of luck, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. It’s good that we have an opportunity to find out more about them at the highest level, but it also makes getting into Seattle a lot harder. There’s no way they don’t know we’re coming.”
He shrugs. “I dunno. We might just be a mistake Horizon’s trying to keep quiet from his superiors…”
“I don’t think our luck will stretch that far. The impression I get is nothing happens in The Order without this Committee’s approval. He’ll know we’re coming.”
“If that’s the case, how are we gonna get anywhere near him?”
I smile. “We’re going to walk right through the front door and ask for him, as if nothing’s wrong, like we would’ve done originally.”
He frowns. “You think that’ll work?”
“I dunno, but if he knows we’re coming, why try to hide it? It’ll just—”
There’s a noise outside, which is getting louder with every second that passes. Josh and I stare at each other, both stunned to silence as the sound of sirens gets ever closer.
Thicker Than Blood Page 6
